The Dyehouse: Mena Calthorpe

Australian Mena Calthorpe wrote just three novels in her lifetime; The Dyehouse was her first novel, and I’ll tag it a ‘social conscience’  novel. But while the novel centres on working life in a Sydney textile factory, it’s also about the trials of the people who work there: their poverty, loves, and struggles. So while we see the structure of the factory with its workers, and how humanity is sacrificed for profit, we also see the private lives of those workers beyond the dyehouse.

The Dyehouse

It’s 1956, and a very calm, prim Miss Merton arrives at the Southern Textiles Dye Works to apply for a job. The factory is run by Mr Renshaw, and when the novel opens, the biggest dilemmas facing the factory are the drop in production and the sudden popularity of nylon. Behind Mr Renshaw is the Chairman of Directors, the General Manager, and the Company Secretary who each approach the factory differently.  Through the plot we see the layers of management, upper, middle and all the way down to the workers who struggle with various problems, personal and professional.

One of Miss Merton’s tasks is to process the necessary forms in order to give the employees sick pay. The term “personal illness” has to be redefined

“Cuthbert says that personal illness could be the personal illness of wife or child. Sick-pay applies only to the personal illness of the employee.”

“I suppose he means Barney Monahan.” said Miss Merton.

“Oh, well,” said Renshaw, “we’ve got to draw the line somewhere. Some of these blokes know a thing or two.”

“Yes.” Miss Merton pressed her lips together.

“Don’t need to take it to heart,” said Renshaw. “Just watch them for that ‘my personal illness ‘ angle, and the rest is up to them.”

Miss Merton sat tapping her pen on her desk.

“It seems heartless,” she said. “Wife sick. Everything at odds. And this form waiting for ‘due to my personal illness.’ There’s not much margin for the joys and tragedies in people’s lives, is there?”

Working at the dyehouse isn’t morally easy for Miss Merton, and Renshaw can tell that she disapproves of policies. To him she’s a “sentimentalist,” and if that means she sees that workers as part of a factory ‘family,’ then she’s guilty as charged. Miss Merton also observes Renshaw’s predatory behaviour towards the female factory workers. Patty, Renshaw’s flavour of the week, is foolish enough to believe Renshaw’s tin promises that he’ll marry her. Everyone else in the factory knows that Patty is being used, but she’s the last one to get it.  My favorite character is Oliver, a man who sees the bigger picture.

Author Mena Calthorpe was a communist and worked in a textile factory, so both her beliefs and her experiences are engaged here. Over the course of a year, we see how the factory runs and the lives of a handful of characters: Hughie Marshall “Leading Hand on the vats.” Hughie is a stellar worker but lacks credentials, and Renshaw intends to replace him in spite of the devotion he’s shown to the company. Then there’s Patty who lives with her invalid mother, a young woman who doesn’t need the trouble that a relationship with Renshaw will bring. We also follow the story of Barney, whose youthful enthusiasm is lost in the “treadmill” of work. It’s easy to tell the author’s politics here, but she doesn’t sacrifice characterization for message, and that’s what makes The Dyehouse an engaging read.

For some reason, Australia in the 50s holds a special fascination.

Lisa’s review

Gummie’s review

Review copy

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10 Comments

Filed under Calthorpe Mena, Fiction

10 responses to “The Dyehouse: Mena Calthorpe

  1. Great review Guy. And you’re right, the message is clear but the characters are engaging and real.

  2. Thanks for the mention:)
    We don’t see these social conscience novels these days… and yet you’d think we would given how the underclass are held ransom to the need to be profitable and/or to compete with cheap imports from places like China where the idea of a fair wage isn’t contemplated. These low wage rates are, IMO, even more morally dubious when they work in hospitality, because after all, who – proprietor and customer alike – can justify underpaying someone in the name of a totally unnecessary cheap latte?
    The exception to this (in my reading experience) is those immigrant stories set in places like America, where the hapless immigrant from India soon learns that the promises of wealth are not going to be fulfilled by washing dishes over a 12 hour day…

    • I just finished a Danish crime story that was definitely complaining about human trafficking, so perhaps the social conscience novel is a bit different these days.

  3. Intriguing, as is your fascination for Australia in the 1950’s. We tend to think of it as a time of extreme conventionality and stuffiness, but on the other hand it was much closer to the working-class fighting spirit that gave Australian such vigour in its first century – all gone now I’m afraid.

  4. I’ll keep this one in mind, I’ll probably like it.

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